


Accidents

by Impala_Dreamer



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Drunk Driving, F/M, Minor Character Death, NSFW Extramarital Affair, Panic Attack, Pregnancy complications, Sexual Activities, character injury, distracted driving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 09:46:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16930953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Dreamer/pseuds/Impala_Dreamer
Summary: ~ Some things just happen… things you can’t explain or stop, things you do and say that you can’t take back. Is it fate? Or just random accidents? ~





	Accidents

Accident: something unplanned, unexpected. An event often resulting in damage or injury.

That’s exactly how it began.

You hadn’t planned it, hadn’t sought him out. You were both married, happily. This wasn’t something you would ever do, nor he, but here you were again; lips pressed together, hands fumbling in the dark. Once the day was done, when the long hours of filming were behind you, Jared would slip into your tiny trailer and into your arms.

It had begun after your first week on set. You were a guest star, booked for a dozen episodes towards the end of Season 13; your character, amusingly enough, was Dean’s new love interest and a two-faced villain. When that first Friday came to a close, Jensen and Jared had insisted you let them take you out for drinks and show you around Vancouver. Exhausted, overwhelmed, and still more than a tiny bit fangirling over them, you couldn’t say no.

You sat between them, in a round booth at the back of their favorite bar, laughing and listening while they shared stories from their last decade of working on the show. It was amazing and unreal, and the never-ending rounds of beer weren’t helping. Your gaze drifted between them, nervous and swooning to be so close to two of the most beautiful men you’d ever seen.

After a while your attention fell more towards Jared, and he blushed shyly under your gaze; your shoulders bumping every now and then, your smiles coming easily as the night wore on.

Fans came by occasionally, asking for autographs or just to say hi; always respectful and blissfully unaware of Jared’s hand resting casually on your thigh under the table. At first it had scared you, made your heart race with rising panic; but when you caught his eye, his lip curling gently at the corner just for you, you relaxed and covered his fingers with your own.

Two hours later you were pressed up against wall in the ladies’ room, Jared’s lips leaving a wet trail down your neck as your fingers twisted in his sweaty hair.

It was supposed to be once, you’d both agreed, just a little accident; but eight weeks later it had moved well past a string of one night stands into a full blown affair. Your days were filled with hard work and tremendously long hours; your nights spent wrapped in each other’s arms. It was a dangerous game, you both knew; one that could ruin so many lives, but something unnameable drew you to each other, a force beyond your control.

After wrapping what turned out to be the most awkward scene of your career, you headed back to your little trailer at the end of the lot and kicked off your shoes, ready to relax and calm your nerves. It had been a hell of a day and tomorrow probably wouldn’t be any easier.

As you walked to the bathroom, your door opened and you heard his boots coming up the steps.

“I keep forgetting to lock that,” you said without turning to see who your visitor was. There was only one person who never knocked, only one person who never needed to.

Jared gave a short laugh, “I’m glad you do.” You heard him step all the way inside, stopping by the little table in the middle of the room. It was a mess, covered with a week’s worth of cups and dishes, three scripts and various other papers you’d tossed there to forget about. Jared ran his hand across the edge of the table, watching as you pulled bobby pins out of your hair, letting it down from the tight braid your character wore.

You ran a hand through your hair, massaging your scalp. “That was so weird,” you said. “I mean, everyone always says how awkward love scenes are, but until you do one…” A shiver passed over you, shaking your body, making you laugh. “It was strange.”

Jared came towards you, “I hated it,” he said stiffly.

You looked up at him with a fading smile, “You did?”

His hand found your cheek, covering the entire side of you face with his long fingers. You closed your eyes and sighed at the touch, he was always so warm. “I hated seeing Jensen’s hands on you.” His fingers slid behind your ear to tangle in your hair.

“Well, technically they were Dean’s hands…” you teased him, enjoying the tension that was building between you.

Jared tugged your hair, forcing your chin up towards him. “I don’t want to see anyone’s hands on you. You’re mine,” he growled.

Your smile fell completely at his words. He leaned to kiss you, but you turned your face away.

“What?” He asked, his voice and demeanor softening, no longer roleplaying the possessive boyfriend.

“Don’t… don’t say stuff like that.” You looked down at your feet, suddenly consumed with guilt. “Jared, we…”

He shook his head and grabbed your hand, bringing it up to his lips. Your gaze went with it and you looked into his sad eyes. They seemed almost gray tonight, more blue than usual, and you smiled at the thought. You had gotten to see almost every variation over the last few weeks; you knew how the lighting in the room or the color of his shirt could change the hazel, tipping the scales between browns and greens and blues. You knew what he was thinking, knew how he felt just by looking into those eyes. The subtle twitches and blinks told you more than his words ever could. You hated that you knew him so well; it was wrong. Those were things reserved for wives, not extra curricular conquests.

He pressed his lips to the back of your hand while his thumb caressed your knuckles, the warmth his touch kindled within you added to your guilt, kicking you hard in the gut. “We need to talk,” you sighed.

“No.” His breath fanned over your skin like a breeze off of the ocean, warm and calming; your shoulders relaxed, letting him pull you closer. “Not tonight. I don’t want to talk tonight Y/N.” Your name rolled off of his tongue like it had the very first night, sending tiny sparks down your spine. Jared cradled your hand to his chest and wrapped his free arm around your back, his hand settling into the curve above your waist.

Slowly, carefully, he bent down to you again and this time you did not turn away. This time you met him halfway, going up on your toes to reach his lips, melting into the kiss like you had every other time. His kisses were sacred, forbidden, and you savored every one because you knew each kiss could be the last, should be the last. 

The shiver that passed through you cleared your mind of any thoughts of guilt and pain, replacing it with the worst emotion given the circumstances: love. Even though you’d fought against it, told yourself every moment not to, you’d ignored everything and fallen in love with Jared. You loved every inch of him, inside and out; every moment spent apart hurt you more than you wanted you admit, but you knew it had to end. Tonight had to be the last time. Your co workers were beginning to catch on; many already knew. It wouldn’t be long before it got out completely and ruined both of your lives. There were other people involved, children on both sides; so many more than two hearts could be shattered by your actions. So many more lives could be torn apart.

Your husband’s face faded away as Jared’s hands slid down your body. His wife’s name disappeared from your mind as his warm fingers crept up underneath your shirt. The world and all of your problems vanished when Jared laid you down, his strong arms holding him up over you, hovering painfully close, your auras mixing in the darkness.

Wrapping your hands around his neck, you pulled him down, dropping his full weight onto you. He fell against you, his firm chest pressed to yours, and took his fill of you. He took his time, lingering with wet kisses about your face and neck, sucking just hard enough against your pulse to make you whimper but not enough to leave a mark. When his mouth closed around your breast, you moaned, arching your back to get closer still. When his fingers slipped between your legs, you cried out, your voice filling the small space, not caring who might be nearby to hear.

He wound you up so tight. The thought of him alone was enough to make you ache, but his hands made you crazy. He knew what he was doing. Jared was a master study and had learned every inch of you; he knew every spot and what it did, knew every sound you would make and how many hitches of breath before you were exploding around him, begging for more.

He brought you there quickly, licking his lips as he watched the flush fill your face. You ran your hands through his hair, dragging his face down to you. Shaking, on the very brink, you kissed him; your hungry tongue breaching his lips, lapping into his mouth. He pressed his thumb against your throbbing clit and changed his direction, sending you tumbling. Again you tugged him down, this time nipping kisses along his jaw as your fingers clawed at his naked shoulders. You were starving for him, your body felt so empty without him. “Fuck me, baby, please.”

He sank into you, his famed cock satisfying every bit of your craving. Jared fucked you slowly into the sofa; your bodies fitting together so perfectly it almost made you cry. It seemed unfair that something so amazing was so wrong. In these moments, flesh to flesh, lips on skin, you wanted to be selfish. You wanted to run away with him, leave everything and everyone behind.

The pleasure crested, knocking the wind out of both of you. You placed your hands aside his face, brushing back the long strands of chestnut hair so you could see those eyes. Here, in the dark, they were like nothing you had ever seen, dark and full, his lids low and fluttering as his gaze darted across your face. He was stoned, high on your kisses, wasted in your arms.

Jared rolled over, pulling you with him and settling back on the couch. You nuzzled against his shoulder, your body tucked safely under his wing. You placed your hand on his chest, your palm flat over his heart, feeling the beats slow, feeling his breath regulate. You closed your eyes, wanting to remember everything. The taste of him still on your lips, the heavy weight of his arm around you, the smell of him: hot and sweaty and perfect. Too perfect. Something had to give.

“Jared,” you whispered, not really knowing what to say. There was no script tonight, just the simple yet terrifying words that needed to be said. “This has to stop.”

You couldn’t see his face, but you felt his reaction. His body seemed to crumble in on itself, his back sinking further into the smokey gray cushions.

He cleared his throat, pushing back two months of mistakes and guilt. “I know.”

You slid your hand around him, hugging him tightly. “We can’t keep this going. As much as I want too, as much as I…” Love you, you wanted to say, but no; those words were forbidden. You took a deep breath and pressed on, pushing up on your arm so you could see his face. “Everyone knows. That new chick in wardrobe was glaring at me all morning. I feel like a whore.”

Jared pushed himself back, shifting on the couch to sit up. His face was red, his eyes as well; he looked hurt by your words, you could only imagine how you looked. “You’re not a whore Y/N,” he cupped your cheek in his hand. “Don’t talk like that. Nobody thinks that.”

You scoffed, “Yeah, everyone just loves me. The woman who swooped in and tried to break up the Padaleckis. Come on Jared, Misha won’t even look at me since he found out. Our scene together yesterday was the first time he’s spoken to me all week and I’m pretty sure he wasn’t happy about it.”

“Misha loves you!”

You pulled away, scooting out from underneath him and fishing blindly for your shirt on the floor. “It’s fine. I don’t need Misha to love me. I just need…”

“Y/N…”

Shoving your head through the shirt, you sighed and looked back at the handsome man sitting naked on your couch. He was everything you had ever wanted, everything you could have dreamed of, but he wasn’t yours, and it was time to give him back. “We can’t do this anymore.”

He ran his hands down his face, wiping at his eyes. “Not yet Y/N, not yet. We still have a few weeks.”

You stuck your feet in your pants and stood up as you pulled them on. “Time’s up. We’ve already gone too far.” You turned away from him, hiding the tears that were bubbling up behind your eyes. You heard him move, heard the jingle of his belt buckle as he pulled his jeans on, felt his heat as he came up behind you.

“I’m not ready,” he said simply, his right hand hovering over your shoulder, unsure if he should touch you.

You reached up and grabbed his hand, pressing it to your cheek and closing your eyes. It was easier this way, not having to look him in the face. “If I could, I would keep you forever,” you whispered. “But you’re not mine.”

He pulled his hand away to wrap it around your chest and hug you to him. You fell against his chest, your head resting on his bare shoulder. He covered you with his hands and long arms, enclosing you in his warmth. He kissed your cheek, leaving a wet patch where his lips and tears fell. “OK.” He kissed you again and again, tiny pecks that tickled your skin, leading him down the line of your neck, hitting all the places he knew could distract you. You sighed and reached up behind you, running your hand through his hair.

“Please, Jared.”

“OK. But do one thing for me. One last thing,” he negotiated, his lips lingering just under your ear.

You spun around and hooked your hands behind his neck, looking up at him sadly. “What?”

“Give me this weekend.”

“Come on,” you shook your head, not wanting to hear the rest.

Jared pressed on, “Give me this weekend. We’ll be in Vegas, we can sneak away early tomorrow; I already checked the schedule. I’m not even on it tomorrow. We go down alone and just be together without any prying eyes. One last fling. Please Y/N. Give me this weekend.”

 

The desert air was dry and hot, such a change from the ever cool Canadian atmosphere you’d grown used to. Sweat appeared almost instantly on Jared’s neck and you watched the wet beads slide slowly down the thick muscles of his throat, giving you all sorts of naughty ideas. Truly alone for the first time together, you were free to do as you wished, so you let your fingers travel across the rental car’s seat and take up residence on his thigh. He smiled, the deep dimples appearing in his cheeks as his lips curled, and he wrapped your hand in his own.

You stayed off the strip, opting to walk around the less populated areas and take in the other sights of town. It was strange, being off set together; Jared looked different in the sunshine, he glowed. His eyes sparkled bright green behind big sunglasses, his shoulders relaxed, his smile was easy.

Even though you were left alone, just another random couple in the crowd, you couldn’t chance notice and you saved room for the Holy Ghost, keeping a good distance between you as you walked. It wasn’t easy, every part of you wanted to reach over and grasp his hand, feel his fingers lace with yours, feel the tug of his arm as it swung in time with his stride. More than once your arms touched, pushed together by the thickening crowd, and you’d both smile, passing a secret between you.

As night fell over the desert, you found yourselves on Fremont Street, walking closely beneath the magical awning that covered the center of the avenue. The crowd stilled and every light around went out, sinking the thoroughfare into darkness. You stopped, standing still in the middle of the street and looked up, waiting for the show. It was just a projection, merely flashing lights on a stiff tarp, but it was amazing. The colors danced with along with phantom music, and your eyes followed the beats, momentarily entranced by the view.

Jared moved behind you, his hands snaking around your waist to pull you back towards him. You let him hold you, even out in public. It felt so right; he felt so good that you forgot your sins underneath the bright lights and let yourself smile. His lips pressed against your ear as his deep whisper cut through the blaring sounds around you, and he spoke the three words you had both agreed were forever banned, “I love you.”

If another moment in your entire life had been more perfect, you couldn’t think of it now. And yet with that perfection, with that heart melting confession, came more pain that you thought you could ever bare. Here you were, two married souls, violating every rule and code you both believed in, sharing one last stole moment in Sin City.

After the lights faded, you ducked into a nearby casino; the world aglow with neon and flashing lights. It was never truly dark in this place, never truly night. The noise and flow of activity made you giddy and you slipped your hand into his, deciding that you would enjoy your last night together, no matter what.

The evening wore on, money was lost to the tempting slot machines, and the hours ticked by unnoticed. Into a dark corner of a bar you slipped, hiding from the crowd in a curved booth; the high leather seats blocking you from curious eyes. You drank and talked as if you hadn’t a care in the world; the buzz of the alcohol pushing away the inevitable sting that loomed around the corner. Sloppy hands roamed under the table and drunken kisses were exchanged. Jared’s hand disappeared up underneath your dress, his caresses forcing you to bite your lip to keep quiet. With bliss and tequila coursing through your veins, you grabbed his neck, sucking his ear between your lips and whispering unholy promises that could never be fulfilled.

“Run away with me,” you begged suddenly, shocked by your own voice as you spoke what was in your heart.

You could almost see his heart break; Jared cringed and his jaw clenched. To hide his tears, or perhaps to give himself time to answer, he kissed you, hard and deep, his hand splayed across your face. When his lips were gone, he pressed his forehead to yours and looked into your eyes. Flecks of brown and blue danced in his irises, giving you something to focus on while you waited for the let down. You knew what he had to say, but that didn’t make the waiting any less terrifying.

“Y/N, you know I can’t.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it.” The tightening that so often accompanied your tears began in your chest, pushing up emotions that you had tried all day to keep away. “Let’s just pretend. OK?”

Jared backed away, his hand falling from your cheek as he turned. Even in the dim light you could see the wetness appear in his eyes.

“Hey, forget it,” you said, attempting to right your wrong. “Let’s go for a drive. I’ve always wanted to see the sunrise in the desert.” You touched his arm, pulling his attention back to you. You smiled softly, nodding as you asked again, “Take me for a drive baby. I want the wind in my hair.”

 

You never made it out into the desert and the sunrise you saw was not the one you’d hoped for. In fact, it was no sunrise at all.

White hot pain pulled you awake, your eyes slamming shut against the harsh florescent lights above your head. You were tucked into a bed, the stiff sheets felt scratchy under your arms, the flat pillow beneath your head offering no comfort. You raised your arm to block the light and felt a pull. Peering down, you saw plastic tubes taped to the back of your hand, and you followed them with bleary eyes to a bag of clear fluids hanging overhead. You panicked and tried to sit up, but your body protested, your sides burned with pain and your head throbbed.

“Hey, hey, relax Y/N,” a soft voice turned your head, as a gentle hand covered yours.

You looked up into dark green eyes. “Dean?” you croaked. Your head was spinning, your thoughts a jumble.

He laughed, “No, Jensen. How you feeling?”

You took a deep breath and tried to find the right answer. “Like death. What happened? What’s going on?”

“You’re OK. You were in an accident. You’re in the hospital. Just relax.”

You shook your head and tried to sit up again, “No. No, what? Where’s Jared? What happened!” The monitors next to you began beeping as your heart raced, tracking your rising blood pressure. “I wanna sit up! Where’s Jared!”

Jensen pushed at your shoulder, holding you down. “He’s fine. He’s right outside. Just lay back, I’ll get him.” 

You closed your eyes and tried to do as he said, taking deep breath after deep breath. As you did, flashes of memory returned to you.

The wind blew through your hair and the starless night lay before you. Jared laughed as he sped down to the empty road, his hands on the wheel as yours traveled his body. Lying across the front seat, your head in his lap, you didn’t see the truck, didn’t see Jared’s eye widen with fear, didn’t see the headlights pass before your car.

Rough hands pulled you from the wreckage as pain sent fireworks through your system. Rolling stretchers, blaring sirens; in and out of consciousness you slipped. Loud, unfamiliar voices called to you to answer questions, trying to keep you awake.

Jared’s hand closed around yours, pulling you out of your recollections, back into the bright room. He smiled down at you with tears in his eyes. He looked OK. His face was scraped and bruised and a black brace was wrapped around his left wrist, but otherwise he seemed alright.

“Hey baby,” he spoke quietly and placed his hand on your forehead, smoothing back the hair from your eyes. “I’m so sorry Y/N.”

“Are you OK? What the hell happened?”

“I’m OK,” he said, taking the seat next to your bed. He scooted the chair closer so he could lean on the hard mattress and stay close to you. “Just a few scratches.”

“Your hand,” you whimpered, looking down at his damaged wrist, tears filling your eyes.

He shook his head, waving your concern away, “Only a sprain. I’ll heal.”

You could barely see him; you were too flat on the bed, you felt like you were upside down. Your fingers fumbled with the buttons on the railing until the head of the bed moved up, and you yelled out, your middle exploding with pain again. “Fuck! I’m guessing broken ribs? Holy shit.” You pressed your head back and grit your teeth, waiting for the burning to subside.

“Yeah.” Jared bowed his head, hiding his face in his hands, “I’m so sorry Y/N/N.”

“It’s not your fault,” you assured him, trying to catch his eye. “It was my idea.”

“You two are gonna play the blame game forever, aren’t you?” Jensen reappeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms folded. He smiled, but you could see the worry behind his eyes. He came forward and stood by the side of the bed, looking down at you with a smirk. “Why don’t you worry about getting better and leave the guilt for another time? Gotta get you rested up for Monday. Big fight scene.” He winked, trying to get you to laugh, but you were having none of it.

A young woman in a lab coat appeared in the door, knocking gently as she entered. “Ms. Y/L/N, nice to see you awake. I’m Dr. Carter. How are you feeling?”

“Not so hot Doc,” you smiled, trying to be polite.

“Well, I can give you a little something later to help with that,” She smiled kindly, her fingers gripping the clipboard in her hands. “Would you gentlemen mind excusing us? I have some things to talk to our patient about.”

Jensen turned to leave and Jared stood up, but you grabbed his hand, looking pleadingly at the doctor, “They can stay. It’s OK. Please.”

Dr. Carter sighed, and shrugged, “Alright. Well, you have a concussion, and a fractured rib. Your blood work came back fine, just…” She paused and looked up at you with a smile, “You didn’t tell us you were pregnant when you came in.”

The Earth froze. The air around you seemed to stop moving, the clock on the wall ticked one second more before ceasing its movement around the face. You laughed as her words sunk in, shaking your head. “That’s because I’m not. That’s… that’s not possible.”

“Bloodwork says you are,” the blonde argued.

Your mouth opened and closed, your eyes darted back and forth as you struggled to deal with this information. There was no way, right? No way. “But…no.”

The doctor placed your chart at the foot of your bed and lay a reassuring hand on your foot, “I’m going to go get the portable sonogram machine and we’ll take a look. How about that?” Her smile was meant to be kind, but you found it menacing.

Beside you, Jared fell down into the chair, his hands rubbing down his stubbled cheeks. Jensen shifted back and forth on each foot, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“I think I’ll leave you guys alone for a minute,” he said, turning to follow the doctor out. He closed the door behind him quietly and you jumped when the latch clicked.

In the silence, you let go, tears running freely down your cheeks. A sob broke free, pulling painfully at your ribs and you wrapped your arms around your waist, shaking. “It’s not possible.”

“Y/N, it’s OK,” Jared sat up, his eyes just as wet as yours.

“It’s OK? How is this OK?” you yelled, and then took a breath, lowering your voice as you continued. “This is not OK. I can’t be pregnant. We can’t… we can’t have a baby. What the fuck!”

“Just calm down.”

“There is no calm! This is the worst thing that could have happened! How can you tell me to calm down? I’m pregnant. I haven’t seen Mike in almost two months! It’s your baby Jared! This is going to ruin everything, everyone. This is…” You grabbed your chest, fighting against the panic while struggling to breathe. The entire world was crashing down around you and Jared sat there calmly staring at you. You pulled air through your open mouth in stuttered gasps, your shoulders tensed and chest heaving. Jared jumped up and sat on the edge of the bed, placing his hands on the tops of your arms, his usually comforting touch doing nothing to relax you.

“Y/N,” he called to you firmly, his deep voice piercing through your racing thoughts. “It’s going to be fine. We will figure this out together.”

“What’s to figure out? We’re fucked!”

He shook his head as you thrashed on the bed, your lungs on fire from lack of oxygen. He grabbed your face suddenly, holding you still between his big hands. Your eyes flew up to his and you froze, your movements slowing to a pained tremor. “It will be OK.” He smiled softly, his thumbs caressing your cheekbones with soothing swipes. “It was an accident, sure, but it was meant to happen. Don’t you see that? Everything that’s happened was supposed to happen. You coming to the show, us being together, this baby… it’s all meant to be.”

You let out an exhausted laugh, “I didn’t think you believed in fate.”

“I don’t. I mean, maybe I do. Whatever, the point is, I can’t be upset about this. Whatever happens, we’ll get through it together. I said I loved you, and I meant it. I know you love me too.”

You looked down, your face still captured in his hands, “I do but…”

“No, no but. Just let this be for a minute. Let’s just sit with this and we’ll take the next step together. You with me?”

His eyes were wide, the smile rising in his face as he waited for your reply. He seemed truly happy, whether it was from shock or genuine excitement, you didn’t know. But it filled you with hope that maybe he was right, maybe it would all work out for the best.

“Yeah, Jared. I’m with you.”

He kissed you; his lips pushing forward every bit of emotion he was feeling. It flowed into you, his joy, his fear, his love. You found yourself becoming excited, so many things you hadn’t thought possible suddenly seemed to be.

You were pulled apart by a knock at the door as Dr. Carter entered, pulling a large machine in with her. You spied Jensen lurking in the hallway, gesticulating wildly as he spoke into his phone. You caught his eye before the door shut and he gave you a tiny smile. Maybe everything would be OK.

The gel was cold it slid across your belly, and you gripped Jared’s hand, nervous and hopeful and terrified all at once. You’d both been here before, both seen the grainy black and white picture on the big screen, but never together; never like this. The doctor’s fingers flew over the buttons as her other hand moved the wand across your abdomen, pressing down hard and changing angles often.

Your own heartbeat sounded through the machine, a distant, swooshing throb that pulsed in time with the muscle inside your chest. You closed your eyes and waited, holding your breath until you could hear the rapid tap of the baby’s heart.

Again the doctor moved the wand, clearing her throat as she fumbled with the machine’s knobs. Your hand tightened around Jared’s, and all your panic returning. The sound you were waiting for was painfully missing: there was no heartbeat but your own. 

 

Dean Winchester had once so eloquently remarked on the show, “Accidents don’t just happen accidentally.” Maybe he was right. Maybe even an accident, or a string of accidents, happen for a reason. Maybe every event was planned, predetermined at your birth, written down in a giant ledger somewhere waiting to be played out. 

You missed the con completely that weekend, your absence and Jared’s injuries explained away easily, and soon the get well wishes began filling your Twitter and Facebook accounts. You left them alone, ignoring everything while you languished alone in your hospital bed.

Mike flew in to take you home, remaining in the dark about the true reason behind your pain. He was a good man, your best friend, and you were determined not to ever let him know about your secret heartache. One more lie on top of the months of deception wouldn’t kill you, but it would kill him if he ever found out.

The producers gave you the week off to recuperate, moving the schedule around to accommodate your absence; but once your time was up, you were on the first flight back to Vancouver, waving a tear filled goodbye to your family once again.

You were greeted back with kind words and ignorant smiles, only a few people were privy to the actual circumstances surrounding your accident. The week’s episode was a turning point for your character, in which she showed her true motives, crushing Dean’s heart as her evil plans were revealed. You were strangely grateful for the chance to cry on camera, for the angst and pain you could pour into your words. It felt good to let it out, to scream and rage, even if it was only an act.

You didn’t see Jared until Tuesday when your paths crossed on set. Jensen had assured you earlier that Jared was fine, but you needed to hear it from him. Into a quiet corner you pulled him, lost for words when you finally got him alone. You stared up into his ever changing hazel eyes and fought back the urge to fold yourself into his arms.

“Jared, I’m sorry. For everything. And… I…”

Your words fell away as he did what you needed; Jared gathered you into his arms, crushing your face in his firm chest. “Me too,” he whispered into your hair as he rocked slowly.

You stayed there for a long while, your hands gripping his shirt, your tears staining the fabric with dark circles.

With a heavy sigh, Jared let you go. He left a final kiss on your forehead and turned away without another word. The lights faded as you watched him walk off; silently closing the door you never should have opened, a sorrowful goodbye that would linger in your dreams for the rest of your life.


End file.
